 | The Self-Tormentor |  |
SCENE II.
Enter CHREMES.Chremes,
to Sostrata within.]
Nay prithee, good wife, cease to stun the Gods
With thanking them that you have found your daughter;
Unless you fancy they are like yourself,
And think, they cannot understand a thing
299
—But meanwhile [coming forward.]
wherefore do my son and Syrus
Loiter so long?
Mene.
Who are those loiterers, Chremes?
Chremes.
Ha, Menedemus, are You there?—Inform me,
Have you told Clinia what I said?
Mene.
The whole.
Chremes.
And what said he?
Mene.
Grew quite transported at it,
Like those who wish for marriage.
Chremes.
Ha! ha! ha!
Mene.
What do you laugh at?
Chremes.
I was thinking of
The cunning rogueries of that slave, Syrus.
[laughing.
Mene.
Oh, was That it?
Chremes.
Why, he can form and mould
The very visages of men, a rogue!
[laughing.
Mene.
Meaning my son's well-acted transport?
Chremes.
Ay.
[laughing.
Mene.
The very same thing I was thinking of.
Chremes.
A subtle villain!
[laughing.
Mene.
Nay, if you knew more,
You'd be still more convinc'd on't.
Chremes.
Say you so?
Mene.
Ay; do but hear.
300
laughing.]
Hold! hold! inform me first
How much you're out of pocket. For as soon
As you inform'd your son of my consent,
Dromo, I warrant, gave you a broad hint,
That the bride wanted jewels, cloaths, attendants;
That you might pay the money.
Mene.
No.
Chremes.
How? No?
Mene.
No, I say.
Chremes.
What! nor Clinia?
Mene.
Not a word;
But only prest the marriage for to-day.
Chremes.
Amazing!—But our Syrus? Did not He
Throw in a word or two?
Mene.
Not he.
Chremes.
How so?
Mene.
Faith, I can't tell: but I'm amaz'd that you,
Who see so clearly into all the rest,
Shou'd stick at this.—But that arch villain Syrus
Has form'd and moulded your son too so rarely,
That nobody can have the least suspicion,
That this is Clinia's mistress.
Chremes.
How?
Mene.
I pass
Their kisses and embraces. All that's nothing.
301
What is there more that he can counterfeit?
Mene.
Ah!
[smiling.
Chremes.
What d'ye mean?
Mene.
Nay, do but hear. I have
A private snug apartment, a back-room,
Whither a bed was brought and made.
Chremes.
What then?
Mene.
No sooner done, than in went Clitipho.
Chremes.
Alone?
Mene.
Alone.
Chremes.
I tremble.
Mene.
Bacchis follow'd.
Chremes.
Alone?
Mene.
Alone.
Chremes.
Undone!
Mene.
No sooner in,
But they made fast the door.
Chremes.
Ha! And was Clinia
Witness to this?
Mene.
He was.—Both He and I.
302
Bacchis is my son's mistress, Menedemus!
I'm ruin'd.
Mene.
Why d'ye think so?
Chremes.
Mine is scarce
A Ten-days family.
Mene.
What! are you dismay'd
Because he sticks so closely to his friend?
Chremes.
Friend! His She-friend.
Mene.
If so—
Chremes.
Is that a doubt?
Is any man so courteous, and so patient,
As tamely to stand by, and see his mistress—
Mene.
Ha, ha, ha! Why not?—That I, you know,
Might be more easily impos'd upon.
[ironically.
Chremes.
D'ye laugh at me? I'm angry with myself:
And well I may. How many circumstances
Conspir'd to make it gross and palpable,
Had I not been a stone!—What things I saw!
Fool, fool!—But by my life I'll be reveng'd;
For now—
Mene.
And can't you then contain yourself?
Have you no self-respect? And am not I
A full example for you?
Chremes.
Menedemus,
303
Mene.
That you should talk thus! Is it not a shame
To be so liberal of advice to others,
So wise abroad, and poor in sense at home?
Chremes.
What shall I do?
Mene.
That which but even now
You counsell'd me to do: Give him to know
That you're indeed a father: let him dare
Trust his whole soul to you, seek, ask of you;
Lest he to others have recourse, and leave you.
Chremes.
And let him go; go where he will; much rather
Than here by his extravagance reduce
His father to distress and beggary.
For if I should continue to supply
The course of his expences, Menedemus,
Your desp'rate rakes wou'd be my lot indeed.
Mene.
Ah, to what evils you'll expose yourself,
Unless you're cautious! You will seem severe,
And yet forgive him afterwards, and then
With an ill grace too.
Chremes.
Ah, you do not know
304
Mene.
Well, well, take your way.
But tell me, do you grant me my request
That this your new-found daughter wed my son?
Or is there ought more welcome to you?
Chremes.
Nothing.
The son-in-law, and the alliance please me.
Mene.
What portion shall I tell my son you've settled?
Why are you silent?
Chremes.
Portion!
Mene.
Ay, what portion?
Chremes.
Ah!
Mene.
Fear not, Chremes, tho' it be but small:
The portion nothing moves us.
Chremes.
I propos'd,
According to my fortune, that Two Talents
Were full sufficient: But you now must say,
If you'd save me, my fortune, and my son,
That I have settled all I have upon her.
Mene.
What mean you?
Chremes.
Counterfeit amazement too,
And question Clitipho my reason for it.
Mene.
Nay, but I really do not know your reason.
Chremes.
My reason for it?—That his wanton mind,
305
I may o'erwhelm: and bring him down so low,
He may not know which way to turn himself.
Mene.
What are you at?
Chremes.
Allow me! let me have
My own way in this business.
Mene.
I allow you.
It is your pleasure?
Chremes.
It is.
Mene.
Be it so.
Chremes.
Come then, let Clinia haste to call the bride.
And for this son of mine, he shall be school'd,
As children ought.—But Syrus!—
Mene.
What of him?
Chremes.
What! I'll so handle him, so curry him,
That while he lives he shall remember me.
[ Exit Menedemus.
What make a jest of me? a laughing-stock?
Now, afore heav'n, he would not dare to treat
A poor lone widow, as he treated me.
Peter Nannius observes that the beds among the antients were portable, and produces a passage from the Odyssey, wherein Penelope orders the marriage-bed to be produced, to try whether Ulysses was really her husband, or an impostor, by his manner of acknowledging it; because this bed was formed out of the trunk of an olive, wrought into the apartment itself, and therefore, contrary to the nature of other beds, could not be removed. Westerhovius.
One of the great beauties of this scene consists in Chremes' retorting on Menedemus the very advice given by himself at the beginning of the piece. Dacier.
The departure of Menedemus here is very abrupt, seeming to be in the midst of a conversation; and his re-entrance with Clitipho, already supposed to be apprized of what had past between the two old gentlemen, is equally precipitate. Menage imagines that some verses are lost here. Madam Dacier strains hard to defend the poet, and fills up the void of time by her old expedient of making the audience wait to see Chremes walk impatiently to and fro, till a sufficient time is elapsed for Menedemus to have given Clitipho a summary account of the cause of his father's anger. The truth is, that a too strict observance of Unity of Place will necessarily produce such absurdities; and there are several other instances of the like nature in Terence.
| The Self-Tormentor | |